Bonbon Du Couer
by seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: Part 2 of my Bonbon Series. Sequel to Bonbon D'amor. Fred/Ron. Rated M.


A/N: Hey everybody. I know I haven't updated in a LONG time but blah blah blah it's all on my profile. Anyway, I decided, thanks to a group of demanding reviewers, that I would write a sequel to Bonbon D'amor.. Ah, a quick notice about Ron. In Bonbon part 1 he was originally out of school but I'm changing the time line a bit. He was in 6th year in Bonbon D'amor and will now be going into 7th year. It's funner that way.

Also, and I highly doubt this is going to work, but I have my own personal contest. I write a heck of a lot better when I have my own fun little stories to read and bounce ideas off of. But, seeing as Bottom!Ron stories are a dying breed, I never have any stories to read. So, if someone writes me a really nice Bottom!Ron (preferably dirty. Really, more sex, less plot) story I will write a story for you. Whatever pairing, plot, fandom, etc. (providing it's not violent and doesn't involve murder/necrophilia/dismemberment/or things going into holes they do NOT belong in) that you want. So, if anyone takes the bait, let me know and send me a link. Honestly, I'm a bit desperate. And sad. Seriously, I NEED INSPIRATION PEOPLE!

Anyway, the story's below. Enjoy! And Review! (And write me stories…)

P.S. The numbers will take you to wonderful little anecdotes that felt distracting during the story. Then, I could get side tracked without feeling bad about it. I don't know, give me feed back in your review. If you like it, whether you'd prefer the anecdotes in the story, if they bug you in general…stuff like that.

Bonbon Du Coeur:

Ron yawned heavily, eyes bleary from sleep. He gave a grand stretch before nestling back into his bed, warm and cozy. He stared at the window marveling at how oddly comfortable he felt. Though he couldn't quite figure out why that was odd.

"Ron, get up!" Right that was why.

The outburst was followed by Ginny bursting into his room. "We need to get ready!"

With furrowed brows he stared at his boisterous possible-relation.

The slight flicker of hope that they weren't related had never quite burned out. It had, in fact, grown the more he got to know her.

"Ready?" He asked.

It was amazing how quickly her demeanor changed. She went from grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet to standing with authority, face stern and hands on her hips.

"I swear Ron. You have the memory of a Hufflepuff. It's a little someone's birthday today." She reminded.

"Oh." Ron blanched.

"You of all people should have remembered _his _birthday." She said coyly.

"He's not my boyfriend Ginny." Ron snapped, feeling cranky now that his morning had been ruined.

Ginny just huffed and started to leave.

"Oh, right." She said, pausing to look at him. "And you're responsible for the cake."

"What?"

"Sorry." She shrugged. "We all pulled straws and…well, you weren't there so we all chose you."

Ron spluttered.

"That's not how the game works Ginny!"

"Fine, would you rather we have a good old fashioned wizards duel?" She asked sarcastically, leaving the room.

Ron huffed and fell back onto his bed. Admittedly he should have seen this coming. Their mother had sprained her wrist so she was unable to do so much as flick her wand. Still, he didn't even know how to-

"Wait! What do you mean 'All?' It's just you and dad!" Ron yelled, running after Ginny.

Ron had spent the last hour staring at the oven, waiting for it to burst into flames. In his experience if he so much as looked at a cooking utensil bad things were bound to happen. Still, he'd never been a fan of being idle. Unproductive maybe. Lazy, yes. But certainly not idle. Hermione might disagree about the differences but Ron had spent enough time doing all three that he could distinguish the subtle idiosyncrasies.

However, he was being idle now and it was getting on his nerves.

He knew he wouldn't be able to do this without help and he really did want to make a cake for Harry…

**Ron interrupted his own thought process to blush at how….dare he say it? No, no, no. It was too horrible. Right, deep breath…to blush at how **_**Ginny-like**_** that had sounded. **

Anyway, he really did want to make a cake for Harry. Well, Harry's birthday. He wasn't being weird or anything.

_Inside Ron's Mind (scary ghost noise):_

'_Hey Harry, I made you a cake.'_

'_What for?'_

'_It's a Super-Special-Awesome-Best-Friend cake.'_

'_I don't think there's such a thing Ron.'_

'_Are you saying we're not Super-Special-Awesome-Best-Friends?'_

'_No Ron, calm down. It's nice, I like it.'_

_{pause}_

'_Um…Ron?'_

'_Yes Harry?'_

'_Why are there hearts on it?'_

Ron vowed that after today he would never, ever make Harry a cake ever again. Cupcakes maybe. Or cheesecake. Or maybe a small chocolate truffle. And a triple layer cake. But definitely nothing with hearts on it. Unless it was appropriate for the occasion. Or just because hearts are fun. No, he had to stay strong. He would definitely draw the line at a triple Decker sponge cake with pink frosting, gold flakes, chocolate hearts, and a lemon curd filling topped with a decadent layer of candied cherry glaze. Actually that sounded pretty good.

"So how's the cake coming?" Ginny smirked.

Ron just glared at her and went back to staring at the oven.

"Honestly Ron, just ask George for help. You know he's the only one in our family that can cook."

"No, I'll do it myself."

"Fine Ron. But when the oven starts telling you how to make the cake come get me cause I want to learn what the heck mom puts in her casserole that makes me so bloated."

With that Ron was left alone in the kitchen again.

He knew he should just go to George for help but he hadn't seen or heard from Fred since Valentines and he didn't want to even chance running into him. Well, he would be at Harry's birthday party but at least there would be a crowd.

He knew Fred was probably freaked out and disgusted. He was also certain that Fred didn't want to be anywhere close to Ron either.

Ron would have been okay with the situation too had it not been for the constant reminders. Granted, if you sleep with your brother there are bound to be some complications with the 'getting over it' process. He just couldn't deal with the frustration.

"Stupid Fred with his stupid face and his stupid naked, sweaty, fantastic- shoes!" Ron stared at Ginny who had walked into the kitchen during the middle of his rant.

"Me, dad, and mum are going to the store for decorations." Ginny said slowly, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth slightly open.

"Okay." Ron said, watching her turn.

"Were you-" Ginny started. She shook her head and continued for the door.

Ron tried to repress the flush on his face.

"By any chance…..Bye." Ginny managed before rushing out of the kitchen.

Ron stood still for a few minutes until he heard her, mum, and dad leave. He let out a long breath, feeling the tension leave. He knew Ginny hadn't heard who he was talking about but he'd definitely have to be more careful.

But, Ron realized with a grin, he was the only one in the house right now.

"STUPID FRED!" He screamed. "Oh, that felt good."

Feeling just a little bit of relief he looked back at the oven.

"Oh, this is never going to work." He muttered, knowing he was at a dead end.

However, fifteen minutes later found him staring at the fire place. Knowing that he could easily kill another hour debating the pros and cons of going he mustered up all the courage he could and went for the floo powder.

"Here goes nothing." He muttered, stepping into the fireplace.

"**STUPID FRED!" "STUPID FRED!" "STUPID FRED!" "STUPID **

"Hello?" Ron whispered, peeking out of the fireplace and into the twins' flat.

The place was organized and spotless.

"Did they move?" Ron muttered.

It felt empty and sterile without the twins stuff in it. He couldn't believe that Fred would move without even telling him.

"Ron. What are you doing here?"

Ron turned slowly.

"Fred?"

"Why do you sound so surprised? I live here." Fred said, yawning and scratching his chest. His shirtless chest.

Ron turned around before he got distracted, opting to look around the apartment.

"I thought you guys moved." He said, trying to sound casual.

"Then why would you come here?" Fred asked, sounding confused.

"No. I thought you moved because- Nevermind. Where's George?"

This was harder than Ron thought it would be. His heart was beating so fast and hard he could hear the blood flow in his ears. His stomach felt like it was in a constant flip and he was almost shaking. He couldn't make eye contact with Fred. He could barely look in Fred's general direction. He really needed to lie down. Or throw up. He hadn't really decided yet.

"George? Oh he went off to go find a present for Harry. Though that may have just been an excuse to go snog his girlfriend. Are you okay Ron? You look sick." Fred stepped forward, reaching out to feel Ron's forehead.

"NO!" Ron yelled, jumping back and hurrying towards the fireplace. "I'm fine. I just have to go make a cake for Harry. It was nice seeing you again. Have a good day. THE BURROW!" Ron yelled, throwing down the powder and disappearing.

When he arrived home he stumbled out of the fireplace and stumbled into the living room.

As much as he'd love to collapse into a corner and cry from the strain of facing Fred he'd have to brush off his PTSD and bake Harry a cake. He was a man on a mission. It wasn't a very exciting mission, not a mission at all really. More of a task. And admittedly he was less of a man and more of a boy. Still, he was a boy with something to do and he was determined to do it. Or at least give it an honest go. Honestly, if he could just get the flour onto the table without destroying the order of the universe he'd feel pretty accomplished.

He approached the pantry, feeling the chills of impending doom. He could practically hear the dramatic music as he got closer. The door opened with a creak, revealing an array of- cloaks?

"That's the closet moron." A voice said from behind him.

Ron turned around, spotting his red-headed tormentor behind him. He then realized that he could say that about any number of his family members really. So he supposed Fred would be his favorite red-headed tormentor. Ginny of course would be his least favorite most tormenting red-headed tormentor. He briefly wondered if he thought of Ginny too much before turning his attention back to Fred.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked the armchair.  
"I thought you moved." Fred joked before heading into the kitchen.

Ron realized that Fred couldn't see him from the kitchen and figured, that if he played his cards right, he could manage to floo powder out and be in Brazil before Fred even noticed he was gone. When he was nine he'd heard Fred saying he was afraid of something called a Brazilian Wax (some sort of snake or something, when he'd asked Hermione she just choked and ran out of the room so he figured they must be pretty scary) so he was positive that, on the off chance that Fred went looking for him, he would be pretty safe in Brazil. [1]

"Ron, what's taking you so long?" Fred asked, peeking out from the kitchen doorway.

Ron looked guiltily at the floo powder in his hand wondering if there was any excuse that could make this less awkward.

"Um…I was just going to …um…shit." Ron had only cursed out of frustration but he cringed when he realized how it sounded. Well, when life gives you lemons…Merlin, today really wasn't a good day for him.

Fred furrowed his brows, an incredulous expression on his face.

"You were going to shit? In the fireplace?"

"Um…yes?" As he watched Fred's face twist in amusement he silently prayed for the ability to shut the hell up.

"The Brazil Plan again?" Damn, Ron had forgotten that Fred knew about that.[2]

"Yes." He admitted reluctantly.

"Come on, let's get into the kitchen. We have a cake to bake."

Ron walked resignedly to the kitchen, all his hopes and dreams flying out of him like…um…shit.

"So do you even know how to-" Ron paused as he stepped into the kitchen and saw Fred wearing a frilly apron. He knew he should be laughing and teasing him but it was oddly erotic. So many dirty thoughts were racing through his head he couldn't even focus enough to get a proper hard on.  
"Do I even know how to what?" Fred asked.

"Cock. Cook! I mean cook!" He looked away from Fred in embarrassment, eyes landing on the table. It was a pretty sturdy table, made from thick oak or…well, that was the only sort of wood he knew about. Ron wasn't exactly an expert on wood. Heck, he didn't even know what you'd call an expert on wood. Probably a woodophiliac. Anyway, he was fairly certain it was made of tree. Either way, it was sturdy enough that if he slammed his head against it just right he could knock himself out. Still, there was a fine line between unconsciousness and death and, when he considered the genes he'd inherited, he'd rather not chance it.

"So, I think we need flour?" Fred said, contemplatively.

"Think?" Ron asked.

"Just shut up and get flour." Fred snapped defensively. He couldn't let it slip that he didn't really know how to cook. Well, he knew how to cook. Mostly from watching George. So he understood cooking in theory. But he didn't really have hands on experience. Still, couldn't let Ron know or that would get in the way of them spending time together. Fred huffed in frustration. Ron always made him feel...confused.

"So, what kind of flower?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. What kind do we have?"

Ron shrugged and glanced into the yard.

"Well, we have white ones, blue ones,-"

"Not that kind!" Fred exclaimed. Sometimes he could swear that Ron acted stupid just to piss people off. "F-L-O-U-R."

"Yes, of course." Ron cursed his distracted mind and went to the pantry. Opening it he felt a swell of exasperation. "Oh, for fucks sake! The damn pantry's empty."

"Seriously?" Fred hurried over and stared into the empty space in shock. He was starting to get the feeling that this was all becoming far more complicated than it needed to be. He also couldn't help feeling that everything would become a lot simpler if he and Ron just had sex. He decided to hold onto that for Option B. "Well what the hell does Mum cook with?"

"Magic." Ron sighed, sitting down at the table. He was starting to get the feeling that this was all becoming far more complicated than it needed to be. He also couldn't help feeling that everything would become a lot simpler if he and Fred just had sex. Maybe on the table. He inspected it plaintively. He reached a hand out and shook the table, testing its sturdiness.

"Right." Fred muttered. He pulled his wand out with a flourish. **"**_**Accio flour!"**_

'_Or we could do that.' _Ron thought, disappointed.

There was several seconds of awkward silence before a sound caught their ears. It was a sort of flurry coming from outside.

"Do you hear that?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, it sounds sort of like…owls?" Fred said.

"Yeah." Ron murmured in agreement.

They both slowly moved towards the window.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ron asked, staring at the white substance moving towards the house.

"Do you think it's a gigantic cloud of flour that's going to fill the house and most likely kill us?" Fred asked, voice tight.

"Yes." Ron squeaked.

"Then yes, Ron. That is what you think it is."

Flour began to ping against the window, sneaking into cracks in the doors or filing down the chimney.

"Right, there's a spell to stop spells. What is it again?" Fred was speaking rapidly, voice full of panic.

Flour was rising quickly, already up to their ankles. Ron stood frozen in shock as he saw it rising up his leg. Now the knees. Mid-thigh.

"Fred, hurry up." He urged.

"Right, right. It was French. It began with an A. Um." He gripped his wand. "_A revoir!"_ Nothing happened. "Um…_Aller!"_ Still, nothing. _"…baquette?"_

"That doesn't start with an A!" Ron yelled. The Flour was already up to his waist and he really, really, really didn't want to die from flour.

"Um, oh yes!" Fred yelled excitedly. _"Arreter!"_

The flow of the flour stopped immediately. There were a tense couple of seconds before they were both satisfied that the spell was over.

"Well, we have plenty of flour." Fred said sheepishly.

Ron stared at him in disbelief.

"We almost died Fred! From Flour! Why don't people believe me when I say that NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS WHEN I COOK!" Ron yelled, kicking at the flour around him. He started moving through the waist high powder.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a mixing bowl. We might as well get started."

Fred sighed and looked around him.

"Just wait until mum sees this."

Ron froze.

"Shit." He muttered. He moved slightly and slammed into something hard. "Ow." He muttered. Reaching forward he felt the kitchen table in front of him. Sighing he crawled on top of the object, brushing some flour off of it to clear some space. "I give up." He groaned, flopping down on the wood and causing powder to puff up into the air.

"Oh, come on Ron. What about Harry?" Fred said, wading towards Ron.

"I know, I know." Ron groaned, wiping a hand across his face.

"Hey, why don't we go back to the apartment? George isn't going back there anytime today and we never get guests. We could flood the whole place with whatever we want." Fred said.

Ron laughed his first genuine laugh of the day.

"Okay, let's go to your apartment. We can floo back and forth for flour."

They moved into the living room, staring at the filled up fireplace.

"Um. Right. Apparate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Fred sighed. "But first, buckets. Apparating's a pain in the ass and I don't want to have to do it more than we have to."

After managing to grab buckets and fill them with flour they apparated into the twin's apartment.

As they assembled supplies in the kitchen Ron felt happy. They had finally gotten comfortable around each other. Well, mostly comfortable. Now there was a calm sort of companionship. He felt like he was getting his friend back. Now if he could just get past the lust he would be able to concentrate.

Speaking of lust (and concentrating) Fred was currently bending down to grab a bowl out of the cabinet. Ron knew that the death-by-flour incident had been just enough to distract him from his feelings for his brother but now that they were safe, secure, and not surrounded by powder, his feelings came back in a raging flurry.

He stared as Fred's trousers pulled tight against his arse. It was a very nice arse. Oddly nice. Ron had never seen the appeal of an arse before. Everyone seemed so obsessed with them but Ron just got confused. It didn't seem like it should be a particularly attractive organ. But somehow Fred made it seem like the sexiest organ in the world. Ron wished he could take a picture. He would definitely ask for a camera this Christmas.

"Aha, got it." Fred said in triumph, pulling a bowl out. He turned to Ron, a smile on his face, but froze when he caught sight of him.

**Fred's POV:**

'_**Fred awoke slowly, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. He was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, evidence of his restless sleep in his crinkled sheet and blanket. It was weird; he didn't usually sleep on his back. Well, not unless he had a bad night.'**_

_That was five months ago. The day after he'd slept with Ron. Fred remembered that morning as he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Every morning had been like that since. _

_It felt wrong; the shop was doing great, they were making plenty of money, the products were finished on time. And yet, he hadn't been able to sleep well in five months. All because of Ron._

_He began to feel uneasy. Truth be told there was this inexplicable beauty about Ron. It's something he's always noticed. It was something everyone noticed. But he'd never had to face it before. At least, not until Valentine's. Sure, the odd dirty thought filtered into his mind but it could always be pushed aside. But then he saw Ron; Ron flushed, desperate, horny. He'd completely lost control. Ron just brought out emotions in him he'd never felt before. He started to feel possessive, greedy. _

_Then, Ron sent him a letter. Just to say hi, asking if he could come over during break. He'd still been in school. Sixth year. Heck, he was going into seventh year soon. Merlin, Fred couldn't believe it. Not only had he slept with his brother. But his underage brother._

_Worse still, he'd ignored the letter. He hadn't spoken to or seen Ron since Valentine's Day. He groaned as anxiety began to wash over him. He tried to distract himself from the feeling with something that made him happy. _

_Naturally, his mind flashed back to Valentine's Day. The way Ron looked beneath him. The way his body flushed, the way his brows furrowed, his striking lips bruised a deep red. And oh Merlin, the sounds he made. Those gorgeous little gasps and moans. Fred had never liked his name before but when Ron had moaned it in his desperate, pleasure-filled voice, nothing had sounded so beautiful. _

_Fred sighed as he felt an erection form in his pajama bottoms. Hesitantly he reached a hand downward and ran a finger across it, gasping. Knowing there was no way around it he slipped his hand past the waistband and roughly grabbed his erection. Thinking of Ron he began to stroke himself. _

"_Nnnn…'He groaned, bucking his hips. _

_He pictured Ron beneath him, gripping onto the sheets as Fred thrust into him. _

"_**More…" Ron had groaned, legs wrapped around his waist. **_

_**Fred held onto his hips and thrust faster. He lowered his head and nibbled on Ron's neck, enjoying the sounds Ron made. He licked lightly at the other boy's jaw. Ron's mouth was right next to Fred's ear, warm breath heating his skin. Fred loved this position; he could feel Ron's heart beat against his chest, hear every sound he made, and feel his whole body pressed against him. **_

_Fred's muscles tensed and his strokes got faster. He gripped the sheets, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly. _

"_**Ah, Fred!" Ron's breathe quickened. He tightened around Fred, so close to his climax. **_

_**Fred lowered his hand between them and started to stroke Ron, making the other boy moan loudly. Fred nestled his head into Ron's shoulder, thrusts becoming shaky as he neared orgasm. **_

"_**Nnnn…Fred…ah!" Ron cried, arching upwards. **_

"…_.nnn…Ron…" Fred groaned, completely unaware of his surroundings as his pleasure mounted. _

"_**Fred!" Ron shook as his orgasm ripped out of him. He arched upwards, body flushed; sweat glistening on his skin, a look of complete surrender on his face. He looked absolutely stunning. **_

_Fred came with a cry, shuddering at the strength of his climax. _

_Apart from not being able to sleep well, masturbating to the image of Ron had also become part of his daily routine in the last 5 months. _

The memory had rushed back into his mind quite suddenly. He'd turned triumphantly, mixing bowl in his hand, to find Ron staring at him. That was normal enough, he was aware of the looks they'd been shooting each other all day. But this look was so…hungry. Granted, they hadn't eaten in a while. That could have something to do with it. But this was a different sort of hungry. Fred could feel himself losing his barely maintained control.

Being around Ron had never been good for Fred. He ended up doing things that were phenomenally stupid. Like the Flour incident from earlier. He'd been so busy thinking about shagging Ron on the kitchen table he hadn't been paying attention. Still, he wasn't a very good wizard in the first place so that probably would have happened even if he hadn't been thinking about having sex with Ron. He wouldn't know though.

It seemed that all he thought about lately was Ron. Whether he just wanted to spend time with him, talk to him, or touch him. Ron took up the bulk of his thoughts, though this wasn't new. Ron had usually taken up the bulk of his thoughts. But this time was different. He felt something for Ron on a level that he never could have imagined before. His body felt like it was on fire as lust coursed through him.

Fred only vaguely registered the 'clank' as the mixing bowl slipped from his grip and onto the ground. But almost the whole of his attention was centered on Ron. He stalked forward, registering the way Ron tensed in apprehension. The other boy stepped forward, and they hovered, unsure of themselves. Fred had been wanting for months; Ron had been waiting for months. But there was a light hesitation.

"Ron, I…" Fred's voice came out husky. He wanted this so badly but he wasn't sure if he could do it.

"Fred, neither of us is very patient. So if it's not an emergency…" Ron growled, looking a bit annoyed.

Fred smiled.

"Then I won't hold back." He said with a smirk.

Fred, desperate for the feel of Ron's lips, pressed forward hastily. He could feel 5 months worth of anticipation, countless sleepless nights, and his own web of emotions propelling him forward. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as he got closer and closer. Then, as their lips pressed together, everything seemed to stop. A gesture that once seemed to be so simple managed to make the last 5 months disappear. Any worry, any frustration, was replaced with a feeling of happiness. But, as their lips pressed together softly, his need seemed to grow exponentially. He needed to feel all of Ron. Gently, he pressed his tongue against the other boy's lips, groaning as they opened for him.

He'd spent so many mornings imagining this. He'd gone through a billion different scenarios. He imagined fast, desperate, and dirty trysts in so many locations. What he didn't imagine was something so sweet. He never counted on their tongues wrapped softly together as they held each other. He never counted on the soft gasps as he pushed Ron onto the kitchen table, climbing on top of him. And he never counted on feeling so fulfilled in knowing that Ron wanted him back.

"You're beautiful." He said, staring down at the other boy. He hadn't meant to say it but as he watched Ron blush he was happy that he did.

He smiled, leaning down once again to kiss his brother. As he listened to the boy moan he knew he wanted to take his time, to explore every piece of flesh. He slowly licked down Ron's neck, stopping to nibble and suck. Ron let out a groan, grabbing onto Fred's shoulders and pressing closer. Fred slipped his hands into the boy's shirt, running them along the flesh he found.

"Fred." Ron groaned. He wrapped his legs around the other boy, pulling him completely on top of him. Fred let out a groan of surprise as their hips connected, erections rubbing together.

"You're…very…impatient." Fred gasped out. Ron was thrusting his hips upwards, tugging at Fred's shirt.

"Too long. Need you. Now." Ron growled.

Fred's arms shook, struggling to support him. Ron kissed his throat, sucking and nipping at a particularly sensitive spot. Fred moaned. Ron was being far more aggressive than he'd ever anticipated. The other boy gripped his hips tightly, grinding against him roughly.

"Oh God, Ron." Fred could barely hold himself up at this point.

Ron grinned and rolled them over. Straddling Fred's hips he tugged his own shirt off before pulling Fred's shirt up.

"Wait, Ron." The other boy ignored him, instead choosing to kiss his way along Fred's chest, stopping to bite at a nipple. "Ah!" Fred gasped in surprise, arching up. He wanted to push the other boy away, he wanted to dominate him, he wanted Ron to be the one gasping and moaning. But he couldn't seem to find the necessary coordination. He struggled to regain control but Ron was once again rocking their hips together. Sparks of pleasure ran through him, heating his body and making him moan. He tried to find the strength to regain control, but his body was submitting to the pleasure. Fred groaned and his eyes slipped shut. His hips began to thrust back in response.

He noticed vaguely that Ron had somehow changed positions to lie in between his legs and that his legs had, somehow, become wrapped around Ron's hips. The other boy gripped the back of his thigh as he thrust, mouth moving to torture his other nipple. His hand clawed at the table as waves of pleasure rocked his body. Fred let out a particularly high pitched moan and covered his mouth in embarrassment, face turning a deeper shade of red. Ron tugged the hand away, holding it to the table. His mouth moved to whisper in his ear.

"Don't stop. You're so hot when you moan." His warm breath sent shivers down Fred's spine. Ron's lips wrapped around Fred's ear, sucking at the sensitive lobe.

Fred felt weird. Ron should be on bottom. Ron should be the one pinned to the table, not him. But here he was, with Ron holding him down and thrusting against him. It felt so good it felt wrong. But even as he thought it the domination had him trembling in pleasure.

"Nn!..Ron..." Fred moaned wantonly.

"Does it feel good?" Ron asked, voice husky.

Fred shuddered. He couldn't believe Ron was doing this. He couldn't believe Ron was _capable _of doing this.

"Tell me if it feels good." Ron ordered.

Fred shook his head and bit his lip.

"I'll stop." Ron warned.

Fred was surprised at the panic that went through him at those words.

"No, don't." Fred pleaded, shaking in pleasure and embarrassment.

Ron froze.

Fred let out a disappointed moan, looking at Ron in confusion.

"Beg." Ron ordered.

Fred looked at his brother in shock. He still looked as sweet as ever. He still looked absolutely delicious. He even looked a little shocked at his own behavior. But there was something in his posture. Something powerful and mind numbingly erotic. Fred groaned, needing to feel Ron thrusting against him again.

"Please…" He moaned, voice shaking. "Please, Ron. It feels so good."

Ron leaned down and their lips connected again. Fred groaned. And then Ron began to thrust again, slamming their hips together, harder than the last time. Fred broke the kiss, neck arching back as he cried out.

"Ah, Ron!" He cried, ashamed and in awe about how good it actually felt.

"Fred." Ron growled. "Tell me again. Tell me how good it feels."

"Ah…so good." Fred shook, body on fire as pleasure took over. "If feels so good."

His nails dug into the table and he moaned desperately. His toes curled as the pleasure began to become almost painful. He could feel his climax building. Ron pressed down harder, sensing Fred's impending orgasm. Fred gripped onto Ron with one hand, his other hand causing permanent dents in the kitchen table. He trembled, muscles tensing and body arching upwards. A wave of impossible heat flashed through him and, with one more thrust, he came. He gasped and moaned Ron's name one more time, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the pleasure ripped through his body.

Ron came soon after, staring down at Fred with some level of shock. After a few moments Fred's eyes met Ron's and he blushed. Ron grinned at him, looking smug. Fred blushed even harder.

"So, should we get started on the cake then?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Fred squeaked, unable to make eye contact. "I'm just going to change first." He rushed out of the kitchen. He'd never been embarrassed about sex before. He stood in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. His hair was undone, his shirt mussed, and-was that a hickey?

**30 minutes later:**

"Come on, Fred. Get out of the bathroom. There's no reason to be embarrassed." Ron yelled.

"No." Fred huffed.

"Oh, come on! I thought you were cute." Ron said, trying to coax him out.

"I'm not cute. I'm manly and awesome." Fred exclaimed.

Ron snorted.

"I heard that." Fred yelled.

"Dammit Fred, we still have to make the cake."

"Men don't make cakes!"

There was a slight pause.

"What if we make it in the shape of a snitch?"

"…Okay."

Fortunately, Fred and Ron managed to make the cake before the party and return to the Burrow with enough time to clear up the flour.

**Harry's party:**

"Harry, Fred and Ron made your cake. I hope you like it." Ginny said smugly.

Harry looked towards the kitchen with some apprehension.

"Okay, here comes the cake." Ron said excitedly.

Everyone gasped as a giant triple decker cake floated into the backyard, approaching the picnic table.

"Wow, guys, that looks delicious."

"Yeah, and it's so big."

"That's what she said."

"George!"

"Sorry mum."

…..

"Hey, Ron."

"Yes, Harry."

"Why are there hearts on it?"

A/N: o.O…um…about the sex scene….I can't believe I wrote that. I swear, I totally planned on Ron being all cute and on bottom. Oh my gosh. I just…I think I'm taking my sexual frustration out on the characters. Please don't kill me….

Anecdotes:

Bill was 17 he told Fred about Brazilian Waxes. Of course, Fred being 11, he didn't quite understand what they were at the time. He thought Bill meant 'Public hair' not 'Pubic Hair.' He was terrified that, if he went to Brazil, they would pour hot wax on his head and rip all his hair out. Granted, when finally did figure out what Bill had been talking about, at the age of 13, he was more terrified. And still is, to this day, afraid of going to Brazil. So, despite being mistaken about the details, Ron is indeed justified in his assumption that. were he to run away to Brazil, Fred would be reluctant to follow.

had tried on a total of 6 occasions to escape to Brazil. The first incident happened after 1st year. He had been desperately excited to make friends with Harry and (to an extent) Hermione. However, the mental trauma that can occur from an 11 year old romping around in the Forbidden Forest, facing off with a 3-headed dog, battling and almost being killed by vines, and participating in a life-sized game of chess where he is almost impaled by a magical knight, all because the most evil wizard in the world has broken into the school to steal a magical stone that will give him immortality then subsequently trying to kill said 11 year old's best friend is astounding. Suffice it to say, when Ron returned home, he was considerably mentally unstable. Despite this they managed to keep him calm and relatively normal. Then his school supplies list arrived.

5 minutes after Molly mentioned it found Ron with his head jammed up the fireplace screaming about how he'd never go back. They eventually managed to pull him out but he had to be monitored for a week afterwards.

The second incident happened after 2nd year. The trauma from almost being beaten to death by a giant tree, having his best friend petrified, and being locked in a pit of rock with a crazy man while his sister was practically dead and his best friend faced off with the most evil wizard in the world was bad enough. But, when combined with the fact that he'd just recently went for a romp in the Forbidden Forest yet again and, while there, he had to face an army of gigantic spiders (his greatest fear) that tried to eat him COMBINED with the events of his first year….well…Ron couldn't take it.

He'd been left alone for just a few seconds when the Weasleys found him stuffed up the fireplace. He stayed in there for 3 hours before they finally managed to coax him out. They couldn't quite figure out why but the only thing that managed to get him out was when Charlie had muttered something in Portuguese.

The third incident happened after 3rd year. It was yet another traumatic year for Ron and he'd returned home worse that ever. Frankly, the Weasleys were getting a little frustrated. And tired of having to monitor him. This, of course, let to the third attempt.

The family had made the mistake of leaving Ron alone in the living room. He'd only been there 10 seconds before they came looking for him. He'd managed to shout "Brazil!" and throw down the floo powder. As the family looked on in horror nothing happened. Molly Weasley had been smart enough to switch out the floo powder with Flour that she'd dyed green. The upside of this plan was that they found out where he'd been planning on going.

This became a sort of tradition for Ron. After each school year he'd attempt the escape to Brazil. He only ever broke that pattern twice. The summer after 4th year when they were at Grimmauld place and once during 4th year. No one except Ron and Harry knew why.

It had been right after the Yule Ball. He'd been having wet dreams all year and he still hadn't recovered from spending all that time with Fred after his fight with Harry. Then, during the Yule Ball he had spent the whole time watching Fred

dance with Angelina and had been terribly jealous. Both he and Harry had been in

a bad mood due to their unrequited attractions. Then, Harry had suggested wandering through the gardens. Ron was all too happy to accompany him. Plus, it was nice to spend some time with his friend after their fight. They talked, they laughed, they had fun, and…well, one thing let to another and they'd ended up TPing the potions room. Terrified of being found out Ron did the only thing he knew to do…floo to Brazil. Harry had walked in about halfway through and, after hearing Ron's plan, decided to join him. They almost succeeded too. Unfortunately they'd forgotten about one thing. Hermione always knew the worst time to show up. Suffice it to say they never got the chance to do that again as long as Hermione was around.

Still, stubborn as ever, Ron had still made an escape attempt after each school year. To this day he's still never been to Brazil.


End file.
